No Strings Attached
by huntinglily
Summary: When Santana sneaks into Rachel's room one night, an affair evolves that turns both girls into emotional train wrecks and develops into something that neither one of them could possibly have prepared for.
1. Chapter 1

**So yeah, I've temporarily given up on my Faberry story. Apologies to anyone who was reading it, but not to worry - I have plans to return to it soon. Pezberry has, for the time being, taken over my heart. **

**A few notes before you read on:**

**- I haven't decided whether or not to include Dani yet but as of now, she had Santana are NOT dating in this fic. **

**- I'm somewhat sticking to the current season story line when it comes to external factors. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or the characters. I only own my own sick, twisted, and sexual fantasies. **

**Enjoy! **

* * *

"I hate you."

Rachel Berry's head was thrown back in ecstasy. Her dark brunette hair was fanned out on the pillow beneath her and her hands were splayed on the mattress, constantly clenching and unclenching. Her breathing was rapid and the words she spoke came out as a moan. Her brown eyes were dilated, her cheeks were flushed, and her entire body felt like it was on fire.

It was wrong. What they were doing was so wrong.

Not to mention the words she spoke were true. She absolutely loathed her companion, and had it not been for her sexual frustration, this would in no way shape or form be happening.

Or so she told herself.

God, it was so wrong, what they were doing.

The head of Santana Lopez popped out from between Rachel's legs. The Latina didn't look much better than Rachel, and her words were just as breathless.

"The feeling" she pressed a kissed to Rachel's thigh "is completely" a kiss on her stomach "mutual." Santana peppered the smaller girl's body with feather-light kisses. Her long fingers danced across Rachel's abs, and Rachel arched under her touch.

"Put your head back between my legs," Rachel groaned as Santana sucked long and hard on her neck.

"You don't deserve it." Santana bit down hard on Rachel's pulse point, and Rachel shrieked in pain.

"Bitch! I told you last time not to mark me!"

However, Rachel's words soon turned to whimpers as Santana's tongue snaked out over the bite mark, soothing the pain.

"I'll mark whatever I want, Berry." Santana bit down again and in the same moment moved her hand south to draw it once through Rachel's slick folds.

"You're so wet."

Rachel arched her hips up and her eyes rolled back into her head as Santana did it again and again, each time pushing harder and getting closer to where she needed her hand the most but never quite getting close enough.

"Put your" gasp "fucking head" another gasp "back between my legs."

Santana let out an audible moan as the curse word fell from Rachel's swollen red lips.

"God, it's such a turn on when you swear," she rasped throatily as she kissed her way back down Rachel's body. "If only you had the guts to talk like that all the time, people might actually pay attention to you instead of ignoring the bullshit that usually comes out of your mouth."

Rachel's eyes flashed. "Not all of us have to be vulgar all the time to get noticed," she panted.

"Any attention is better than no attention, right?" Santana shot back, winking.

"You are so shallow."

"Excuse me while I nurse my oh-so-wounded feelings."

"I'd say 'poor baby', but you don't actually have feelings. Can't wound what never existed."

"Damn, I didn't know being so horny also meant you got feisty."

"Fuck you."

Santana groaned again at the swear word, her arousal kicking up another notch and her self-control disappearing. She dove back into Rachel's legs, kissing and sucking and licking her way up and down the smaller girl's wetness. Rachel's hands shot to Santana's head and she ran her fingers through her long dark waves.

"I'm close," she choked out. "So close."

"About damn time," Santana muttered, and her head jerked back as Rachel yanked her hair.

"Fuck you, Berry!"

"Yes," Rachel whispered, too far gone to care about anything else. "Fuck me."

Her whimpered demand was just enough to send Santana overboard and the Latina gave up on the teasing. She replaced her mouth with her fingers and pumped them hard into Rachel over and over. She shifted back up Rachel's body, nipping her impossibly soft skin on the way and finally slammed their lips together. Rachel kissed her back feverishly, and their tongues battled for dominance. After several long seconds, Rachel pulled away, gasping for air and craving more friction.

"Neck," she rasped, needing pressure on her hypersensitive skin. Santana kissed a molten path down to Rachel's pulse point and sucked as hard as she could. Rachel moaned in response, and Santana's ears pounded with the sound of it. She continued to push her fingers in and out of the smaller girl, until she felt Rachel begin to clench around her.

"Oh my _god_," Rachel hissed, sucking in her breath as the orgasm began to hit her. Santana pulled away from the smaller girl's neck and watched hungrily as Rachel's body shook beneath her. With her head thrown back, her cheeks completely flushed, and her breath coming out in ragged gasps, Santana could've sworn she'd never seen anything as sexy as Rachel Berry.

"You are so fucking hot," she whispered into Rachel's ear as the girl panted and began to come down from her high. "It's such a bummer how much your personality totally fucks you over."

Rachel's eyes opened into narrow slits. "Like your personality doesn't do the same to you?"

"However bad my attitude is, yours is a thousand times worse," Santana said. As Rachel opened her mouth to retort, the Latina cut her off. "Not really a point in arguing, is there, Berry? You seem to be a little broken right now. Just give up."

Rachel was silent for a moment. "I could break you," she replied evenly, in a calm and matter-of-fact tone.

"Yeah? I'd like to see you try," Santana laughed, shaking her head.

However, she let out a shriek as Rachel's ragdoll form shot to life and flipped Santana onto her back. The Latina slammed into the bed and Rachel slammed on top of her, crashing their lips together and shoving her hand in between Santana's legs. Santana groaned as Rachel's fingers assaulted her, making her twist and turn and shiver. She writhed under Rachel, but the smaller girl held her down and bit down hard on Santana's bottom lip, so hard that Santana saw stars and her eyes rolled back at the mixed feelings of the sting of the bite and total ecstasy. Rachel pressed her body down hard onto Santana's, rubbing their breasts together. She went from rubbing circles around Santana's clit to pumping her fingers steadily in and out of the Latina. The hand that wasn't preoccupied with that was tangled in Santana's hair, pulling it just hard enough to add pain to the pleasure. Every movement was pushing Santana closer and closer to the edge, but she attempted to keep the upper hand and not give Rachel the satisfaction the smaller girl was after.

"It's funny how you think you can top me," she rasped out.

Rachel froze for a moment and then all at once, she bit Santana's lip again, curled her fingers, dragged her breasts against Santana's, and pressed hard against the other girl's clit. It was too much and all at the same time and sure as hell, it broke Santana. Her orgasm ripped through her body and she shuddered helplessly against its force while Rachel swallowed her moans and kissed her senseless.

When the earth-shattering pleasure finally subsided, Santana took a deep breath and Rachel pressed her lips to Santana's once more before slowly rolling off her and to the other side of the bed. The two girls lay side by side, their shoulders touching. Santana turned her head and they gazed at each other momentarily. Rachel's milk chocolate eyes stared into her dark chocolate ones, and Santana looked back at them without blinking.

This was the part that neither of them knew how to approach.

After several heartbeats, Rachel broke eye contact first as always and got up, scanning the dark room for her discarded clothes. Santana took a second to breathe before regaining her composure.

"What's the matter, Berry?" she asked, smirking. "Too scared to look into my eyes? Afraid all the hate you'll find in them will break your little heart? Can't take it?"

Rachel whipped around as she tugged on her pajama shorts and gave Santana an icy smile.

"Might I remind you that _I_ seem to be the one who just broke _you_?"

"Oh, please," Santana snorted.

"You weren't smirking a few minutes ago when I was giving you a chain of hickeys and fucking your brains out with my fingers."

Santana rolled her eyes, not responding and Rachel raised an eyebrow at her.

"You look way too much like Quinn when you do that," Santana muttered.

Rachel located her shirt and pulled it over her head before standing up and straightening herself out.

"I'm going back to my room."

"Thanks for the announcement," Santana said, her trademark smirk returning. "You know Berry, you're getting ballsy. This is, like, the third time you've come into my room, practically begging for sex. Careful now; one might think you were starting to play for the other team."

Rachel just quirked her eyebrow again, looking Santana up and down. "Let's not forget who started this little game," she said mock-sweetly. "If my memory serves me correctly, it was you who snuck into my room on that first night. Anything to say for yourself?"

"It's not like you even attempted to push me away, Berry, so enough of this 'I'm so innocent' shit. I mean seriously, desperate much?"

Rachel was silent as she stalked over to Santana's side of the bed and leaned down, putting her lips to the Latina's ear.

"Who said anything about being innocent?" she breathed throatily, sending an involuntary shiver down Santana's spine, and it was all the other girl could do not to let out a moan. "I'd say that orgasm I just gave you was anything but innocent."

Santana hated when Rachel caught her in these moments; hated that the smaller girl could turn her on so easily. It made Santana feel weak, and that was something that didn't settle well with her.

"What can I say?" she whispered in response. "You're welcome for being the only person willing to fuck you."

Rachel immediately pulled away, and her eyes flashed with anger.

"Fuck you."

"Ooh, please do. What would that be for tonight, round three?"

Rachel rolled her eyes and began to walk out of the room. Just before she reached the curtain that posed as a door, she turned back and stared directly into Santana's eyes. She opened her mouth and was about to speak when a noise was heard from the far end of the loft, where Kurt's room was.

Both Rachel and Santana froze and waited several painstaking seconds, ears strained for any other noises.

"You don't think he's awake, do you?" Rachel asked, a nervous tone sneaking into her voice.

Santana shook her head. "Lady Hummel? No way. He sleeps like a deaf old woman about to croak. He's probably just having a wet dream about Bowtie Blaine."

"So you don't think he knows?"

"He doesn't know."

* * *

Across the loft, Kurt Hummel shook his head and rubbed his eyes.

He knew.

_Of course_ he knew.

How could he not know?

Since their high school Glee club days, Kurt had always suspected there was a tiny, deeply hidden mutual attraction between Rachel and Santana. True, they had hated each other until senior year, but Kurt wasn't blind. There were the smallest glances, the subtlest brushes against each other during performances, the rare hugs during good moments that lasted a second longer than they should have. And of course, all the anger and history between the two girls was only cause for lots and lots of sexual tension, seen plainly during screaming matches and sing-offs.

That sexual tension had increased tenfold after Santana moved in with Kurt and Rachel after graduation. It was there when the two girls had fought relentlessly about whether Rachel's ex-boyfriend Brody was cheating on her on not. It was there when they started Pamela Lansbury and the two of them finally sang together again. It was there during countless arguments on what movie to watch and whose turn it was to bring home food. It was there every time Santana berated Rachel for singing too loudly and it was there every time Rachel told Santana she needed an attitude adjustment.

The point was the sexual tension was _always_ there. And yes, Kurt could sense it. He was used to it. Quite honestly, he had learned to just expect it.

However, what he _hadn't_ expected was to wake up in the middle of the night almost a month ago and hear moans coming from Rachel's room. He had snuck out of his bed, tiptoed across the floor, and peered through a crack in the curtain that acted as walls dividing the loft.

No, he definitely hadn't expected what he saw, which was a very naked Santana laying on top of a very naked Rachel, both girls moaning and shuddering and pressing their bodies together, desperate for friction. He had covered his mouth with his hand, slowly made his way back to his room, and proceeded to sit upright in his bed for a solid hour, trying to figure out what to do (not to mention attempting to erase the mental image from his mind).

In the end, Kurt decided to join in on their little game and keep his mouth shut. He awake the next morning and pretended not notice the way Rachel blushed when Santana walked into the kitchen wearing nothing but pajama shorts and a bra, or how Santana's eyes flicked over Rachel's body when the other girl bent over to retrieve a plate from the dishwasher.

Kurt had watched all of these with knowing eyes and a hidden smile. Keeping quiet about their little charade could prove very interesting and very entertaining for him. It would be intriguing to see how far the two girls were willing to go to keep their secret, well…a secret.

It had now been nearly a month. His roommates were still at it and still completely oblivious to the fact that he knew. Not that he minded. He was perfectly content watching it unfold.

However, there was a small uncertain fear in the back of Kurt's mind. Just as he could hear the more promiscuous activities that occurred, he could always hear the insults thrown back and forth and he wasn't deaf to their after-sex conversations, either. There was no doubt in his mind that eventually, Rachel and Santana's little affair would blow up in their faces and all hell would break loose. Though he was fairly confident no real feelings had been evolved yet, it was inevitable that sooner or later, one or both girls would develop feelings and they would end up getting hurt.

It was that thought that made Kurt want to step in and do something. He knew these girls very well; he'd known them since freshmen year of high school. Both were incredibly feisty, obnoxious, and unafraid to do whatever it took to get to the top. He always knew that both of them hid behind emotional masks; Santana hid all the hurt she had faced dealing with her sexuality, and Rachel hid how much damage getting bullied for so many years had done to her. They were honestly two emotional explosions just waiting to happen, and Kurt was aware with every insult thrown, the two girls were getting closer to their unavoidable train wreck.

Yes, it would happen eventually.

But for now, Kurt just snuggled back under his covers and smirked to himself.

Explosive emotions could wait. He wanted to enjoy the fun while it lasted.

* * *

Back in Santana's room, Rachel finally felt confident enough that Kurt was asleep. She moved to leave the room, and stopped at the sound of Santana's voice.

"Berry."

Rachel turned back to face the other girl. "I have a name, you know."

Santana just gave her a sly grin. "I have to admit…that was fun."

Rachel smirked. "Isn't it always?"

Santana shrugged, winking suggestively. "What can I say? You're a quick learner. You know how to get me going."

Rachel almost allowed herself to give the girl a genuine smile until—

"Just hope you realize this is the only action you're ever going to get so enjoy it while it lasts."

And with that, Rachel's almost-smile disappeared and was replaced by an icy glare.

"Just don't forget who started this, Santana. I mean, _lesbihonest_, we both know which one of us is experimenting and which one actually plays for the other team."

"You're in denial if you still think you're just experimenting, babe."

Rachel flipped her off, and Santana rolled her eyes.

"Whatever. Fuck off, hobbit."

"As you wish, your highness," Rachel said, slipping out of the Latina's room.

As soon as she was gone, Santana closed her eyes and not bothering to put clothes back on, she slid under her covers, groaning softly. Her entire body ached, but no part was in as much pain as her head was over the mess she had gotten herself into with Rachel.

A month ago, she'd woken up after another nightmare about Brittany. Though it had been a long time since she and Brittany had broken things off, the blonde still haunted Santana's dreams. It was different during the day; she was distracted with work and people and life in general. She was busy, and that's how she liked it. At night though, it was another story. Feverish visions haunted her, all surrounding the blonde girl who still held her heart. Most of the time, Santana would wake up in a panic but be able to calm herself down enough to eventually fade back into sleep.

However, this time it had been different. Intensely vivid memories of Brittany had been playing through her nightmare; their first kiss, Santana singing Songbird to Brittany, the two of them singing Dance With Somebody together, Brittany telling Santana that she loved her more than anyone in the world. Those moments and more had run themselves through Santana's mind over and over until she woke up with sweat dripping down her back and tears pouring down her face. She had curled into a tight ball and attempted to control her rapid, panicked breathing but nothing could take her mind off of the blonde.

The sound of Rachel moving around in her bed from across the loft had caught Santana's ears and in that moment, Santana had made a decision on impulse. She needed someone to hold her. She needed physical comfort and contact.

But all that from Rachel Berry?

It was _Rachel_ _fucking Berry_, for god's sake. This was the girl that Santana and Quinn had tormented for the majority of high school. True, they had all ended up friends and Santana and Rachel were even roommates now. But that didn't mean the tiny diva didn't still bug the crap out of her sometimes.

However, acting on need and instinct more than logic, Santana had crept out of her bed and snuck into Rachel's room. The smaller girl was sleeping peacefully and Santana knew she should just leave. But the second she turned her back to walk away, an image of Brittany flashed in her mind and tears welled up in her eyes. She spun back around and slowly crept into Rachel's bed.

"Wha….what the—"

A confused and sleepy Rachel had opened her eyes at the feeling of someone in her bed, and they widened as soon as she saw the tears in Santana's eyes.

"Santana, oh my god. Are you okay? What are you—?"

"I need you," she whispered brokenly.

Rachel stared at her until suddenly, a light bulb clicked.

"Brittany?" she asked softly. Santana nodded and started to sob.

At that point, Rachel had pulled Santana into a tight embrace, kissing the side of her head and murmuring comforting words as the Latina cried her eyes and heart out. Rachel ran her fingers through Santana's hair and Santana buried herself in Rachel's neck. She clung to the smaller girl and cried until finally, she began to regain control of her emotions. She took a deep breath and as she did so, she inhaled the faint scent of Rachel's perfume emitting from the other girl's neck. It was intoxicating, and as Santana inhaled again and let the fragrance fill her senses, she felt something flutter in her stomach.

That moment was a game-changer.

Santana pulled back and looked into Rachel's eyes. The two girls gazed at each other, unmoving; Santana's arms were still wrapped around Rachel's waist, and Rachel still had a hand tangled in Santana's hair.

After several painstakingly long seconds, Santana leaned in slowly and pressed her lips softly against Rachel's. The kiss was chaste, and Santana held it for a heartbeat before pulling away and gazing into Rachel's eyes again, asking an unspoken question.

Rachel's eyes widened. She opened her mouth to speak and before she had the chance to say something, Santana cut her off.

"I need you," she said again, a hint of pleading desperation slipping into her tone. Her voice broke on the last word.

Rachel shut her mouth and Santana saw a million emotions run through her eyes before the smaller girl nodded.

"Then have me," she whispered.

Hours later, the two girls had curled up against each other in Rachel's bed and discussed their arrangement.

There would be no feelings. No change in their attitudes towards each other. And absolutely no telling anyone else.

Just sex.

Now, a month later, Santana had no idea what they had gotten themselves into. They never talked about Brittany and the real reason why Santana had come to Rachel that first night. They played it off as this was Santana's way of having fun and Rachel's way of experimenting. They switched off whose bed they used. They threw insults at each other, probably more than necessary just to ensure that no feelings whatsoever could possibly be developed. Santana was a bitch during sex, and Rachel wasn't much better. During the day, there was no change in their love-hate friendship. At night, they tore at each other's clothes and got lost in each other. They never spent the night together; whoever's bed they weren't using, that girl always returned to her own room to sleep in.

It was a no-strings-attached arrangement. It kept Santana distracted from Brittany, and that worked perfectly for her.

Except it wasn't working perfectly.

Though they only lasted a heartbeat, Santana knew she had seen shreds of emotion flash across Rachel's eyes in moments that the two girls were pressed closely together. And as much as she hated to admit it to herself, Santana couldn't deny that more times than not, she had felt her stomach fluttering at the sight of naked Rachel Berry.

"It's just because I can appreciate her body," she whispered to herself. "She's hot. Anyone could see that. It doesn't mean anything."

But even more than that, she hated to admit that a tiny part of her was starting to depend on Rachel for more than just sex. Her thoughts wandered to the smaller girl as distraction whenever something reminded her of Brittany. Though sometimes they took things too far, the banter between the two girls was starting to feel like affectionate teasing rather than barbed insults thrown back and forth. Above all, Santana was starting to feel like the only place she could breathe freely was pressed up against Rachel, their bodies tangled and their hearts beating fast.

She needed Rachel. She craved Rachel.

And, quite frankly, that scared the shit out of her.

* * *

Back in her room, Rachel wasn't in much better condition than Santana.

"What are you doing, Rachel?" she groaned to herself, flopping onto her bed and curling into a tight ball of feelings and confusion.

It had been a month since Santana showed up in her room on that first night, sobbing about Brittany. Rachel had always had a sneaking suspicion that the breakup between the Latina and the blonde had done a lot more damage to Santana than she let on. Every time Brittany's name was mentioned or an old glee memory was brought up, a flicker of pain would flash through Santana's eyes, but it was always gone so quickly that Rachel had had to see it happen several times before she was convinced she hadn't just imagined it.

So, when Santana had crept into her bed with tears in her eyes, Rachel's suspicions were confirmed.

"Brittany?" she asked, just to be sure. Santana had nodded and began to cry harder than Rachel had ever seen her cry.

The sight of the tough girl falling apart in front of her had smashed Rachel's heart into a million pieces, and it was in that moment she decided not to care about their part. She opened her arms and Santana flung her arms around Rachel's waist. Rachel stroked her hair, whispered assertions that she would be okay, and held her until the Latina calmed down.

And then, after pulling away from the embrace, Santana had leaned in and kissed her.

An infinite amount of thoughts and emotions had flooded Rachel's mind and heart. The kiss was a question; the same question that could also be seen in Santana's eyes when she broke the kiss and gazed at Rachel. Feeling utterly helpless and completely lost, Rachel knew it was a bad idea. She couldn't go through with it. Nothing good would come from whatever was about to happen, and she couldn't do it.

She opened her mouth to tell Santana that no, nothing could happen between them and was about to say so when the other girl cut her off.

"I need you," Santana had pleaded, her voice breaking.

Rachel's words died on her lips and her breath caught in her throat, gazing into Santana's tear-filled eyes. Her heart broke again for the girl, and suddenly she heard herself speaking.

"Then have me," she whispered.

And Santana had done just that. She had covered Rachel's body with her lips, set fire to her skin, and sent excruciating pleasure coursing through her body. In return, Rachel made Santana see stars as the Latina came, shaking beneath her. And afterwards, when they lay side by side, breathing heavily with their bodies covered in sweat, Rachel's heart had opened up and let Santana in.

Just sex, they had said.

No feelings, they had said.

And if Rachel looked at it from an external view, the arrangement was working well. Through sharp words and sharper comebacks, the two girls worked their way through a sex-only affair and it worked for them. They got by on bitching at each other constantly, and it kept everything from getting too heavy or serious.

But every time she looked internally and peeked inside her heart, all she could see were Santana's tear-filled eyes from that first night, and it sent an emotional tidal wave crashing over her.

Rachel knew that, even if Santana would never admit it out loud, she was slowly starting to heal the other girl's heart.

And though she wouldn't – couldn't – admit it to herself, Rachel knew that Santana was slowly starting to steal hers.

* * *

**Ah, angst. It slays the heart. Second chapter should be up sometime in the next couple days! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Welp, this chapter is a tad bit shorter than the first but hopefully content makes up for it. It sets the story a bit more and I can really start to evolve the plot from here.**

**Thank you to everyone who has read/followed/Favorited this so far, and a special thank you to the people who left reviews 3 they were all so nice**

**Quick couple notes before the chapter starts:**

**- Rachel's relationship with Shelby is somewhat AU**

**- The character of David is completely made up and came straight out of yours truly's imagination**

**That's about it, I think! Chapters will vary in length from here on out, enjoy! **

* * *

The next morning, Kurt decided to have some fun with his roommates. After all, they deserved it for thinking he was oblivious to their not-so-sneaky little affair.

He smirked as Rachel as Rachel stumbled into the kitchen, bleary-eyed. Her movements were stiff, and Kurt was not blind to that.

"Good morning, sunshine. You look a little stiff. Rough night?"

The faintest pink blush appeared on Rachel's cheeks. "Just couldn't sleep," she mumbled, making her way to the refrigerator. Kurt bit his lip to keep from laughing as he watched the tiny diva stand on her tiptoes in an attempt to real the cereal on top of the fridge.

He couldn't help himself; a giggle slipped out.

Rachel whipped around and shot him a glare. "Seriously, Kurt?" she asked. "You're just going to sit there and watch me struggle? Honestly, I don't even know why we keep the cereal up there. There are so many other places we could—"

"Oh god, Rach," Santana groaned as she joined the scene. "It's way too early for your shrieking."

"Did you just call her Rach?" Kurt asked. Oh, this opportunity was golden.

"I do not shriek!"

"So what if I did?" Santana challenged him, ignoring Rachel's indignant statement and instead reaching over the smaller girl to grab the cereal box and hand it to her.

"_And_ you got the cereal for her? My, aren't we feeling affectionate this morning."

"Thank you, Santana!"

"Whatever."

"Ooh, touchy, touchy," Kurt said, wagging his finger at the Latina.

"Fuck off, Lady Hummel."

"Santana! Language!"

"Oh come on, Hobbit, he was asking for it."

"Hobbit? What happened to Rach?"

"Thank your BFF Porcelain for killing my assumed 'affectionate' mood with his gay sass."

"Would it really kill you to call me Rachel? Your so-called nicknames can hurt, you know."

"Cry me a river."

"ENOUGH," Kurt barked finally, and both girls turned to glare at him. "Ladies, please. No more bickering. Santana, you have work in an hour and Rachel, you have class. Tardiness is unacceptable so both of you go ready yourselves. Off with you now, go on, and maybe I can finish my breakfast in peace." He waved his hand, sending them away from the kitchen.

Rachel raised her eyebrow at him and Santana rolled her eyes, but they both turned to leave, muttering to each other as they did so.

"Seriously, did you take lessons from Quinn? Enough with the damn eyebrow!"

"Aw, does it bother you? Remind me to do it more often."

"I swear to god, Hobbit…"

"Rachel! My name is Rachel!"

Kurt shook his head as the sounds of their voices faded. Living with Santana and Rachel was like living with two kittens; they fought relentlessly, but there were also times that he had caught them curled up together on the couch, asleep after watching a movie. His roommates were a hot mess of sexual tension and pent-up feelings. It was entertaining to watch and exhausting to keep up with. It was a new story everyday and he never knew was to expect next.

It kept life in the loft interesting, to say the least, and honestly, he wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

Rachel threw back the curtain that acted as a door to her room and stomped around her room, pissed off from the banter in the kitchen with Santana.

"So full of herself," she muttered as she tugged on a pairs of leggings and a pink lacey blouse. "Thinks she's such hot shit. I'm hotter than her. I have pretty hair. I'm not that short. Not a hobbit."

Her flashing eyes scanned the room for her white sweater until she realized that she had been wearing it last night when her and Santana…well…

Huffing, she walked across the loft and barged into Santana's room, not bothering to ask permission to come in.

"Hey! Hot Head. I left my…"

Rachel's words trailed off as she stared into the room at Santana, who was in the middle of getting dressed and currently stood clad in nothing but a red bra and matching thong. Rachel's jaw went slightly slack and her eyes glazed as they swept over Santana's perfect body. Her long legs were toned, her stomach was flat with visible abs, and her skin was dark and tanned. The Latina's long dark hair cascaded down her back in messy waves, and Rachel could've gone on looking at her forever if Santana hadn't heard her.

Santana turned at the sound of Rachel's voice, and a shit-eating grin spread over her face when she caught the smaller girl looking at her near-naked body.

"Cat got your tongue, Berry?" she asked, smirking and turning a full circle so that Rachel could see every inch of her. "What's the big deal? Nothing you haven't seen before."

That snapped Rachel out of her trance. "Sshh," she hissed, looking over her shoulder and closing the curtain. "Kurt will hear you."

Santana made her way over to Rachel and stood behind her. "Why so tense?" she breathed into Rachel's ear, and her grin widened as she watched a shiver go down Rachel's spine. "I think you need to relax." She placed her hands on Rachel's back.

"What- what are you doing? Santana—"

"Hush," Santana whispered, pressing her lips to side of Rachel's neck and snaking her hands up to the smaller girl's shoulders. She began to slowly massage the tense muscles, pressing hard into Rachel's warm skin. She watched as Rachel's eyes fluttered closed.

"That's it," she murmured against Rachel's neck, peppering it with soft kisses. "Just relax…" She continued to knead Rachel's shoulders with her fingers, eliciting just the right amount of pressure. Rachel's breathing got heavier and slower as she emitted a quiet moan. Santana decided to push her luck and opened her mouth, running her tongue up and down the length of Rachel's neck and biting down on her pulse point.

Rachel's eyes snapped open at the sting of the bite and she shot forward, pulling away from Santana.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Oh god, don't swear right now," Santana groaned. "You know what that does to me. Besides," she said, winking at the huffy girl. "You didn't seem to be complaining a few seconds ago."

Rachel opened her mouth to retort and realized that Santana was right; she hadn't stopped the Latina from whatever she had been doing. Closing her mouth, she decided against responding to the challenge and ignored Santana's statement.

"I came here to—"

She stopped as she watched Santana bend over to pick something up. Her tan ass was all Rachel could see, and Rachel could do nothing but envision her hands running over the smooth skin. Fuck, she was such an ass girl.

Wait, why had she come in here again?

In front of her, Santana slowly stood up and Rachel watched the girl's perfect hair tumble over her shoulders. She so badly wanted to tangle her fingers through that hair.

Santana turned to look at her, waiting expectantly for her to finish her sentence.

A trickle of sweat went down her back. Sweat…sweater…_sweater_! That's why she had come in here.

"I left my white sweater in here," she said.

Santana rolled her eyes and titled her head at the bed. "If it's anywhere, it's under there."

Rachel made her way over to the bed, bent down to look underneath it, and sure enough stood back up with the sweater. Thankfully by the time she stood up, Santana was fully clothed in her waitress uniform. The Latina was attempting to put her hair up in a bun, but kept missing sections of it and Rachel could see how frustrated it was making her to have to keep starting over.

"Want me to braid it for you?"

Santana's eyes met Rachel's in the mirror, and Rachel could see surprise and skepticism in them at the offer. But Rachel gave her a genuine smile, and the other girl's expression softened. She nodded her consent and sat down on the bed. Rachel climbed on and straddled her from behind, taking Santana's hair in her hands and beginning to part it.

"If you pull out even a strand of my hair, I'll slap you."

Though technically the words were a threat, Rachel could hear a teasing tone in them, and her smile grew.

"If I wanted to cut off your hair, I would've snuck into your room a long time ago to do it."

"Seems like you ended up sneaking in here anyways."

Rachel could hear the smile in Santana's soft-spoken words and against her will, her heart melted. They fell into a comfortable silence as Rachel braided Santana's hair and evaluated their relationship in her mind. There were times that she absolutely hated the sassy Latina and she often asked herself how they were living together without any bloodshed. However, right now? She currently had her legs wrapped around Santana's waist from behind as she did the other girl's hair. In the mirror, she could see that Santana's eyes were closed and she had a serene expression on her face. The atmosphere was the epitome of content, and it was moments like this that Rachel wished could last forever.

She was close to the end of the braid and as Santana let out a small sigh of contentment, Rachel couldn't bear to break the serene spell. She started to undo the braid she had been working on.

"What happened?" Santana asked drowsily, not opening her eyes.

"I messed up and had to start over. Sorry," Rachel lied as she began to redo the pattern in Santana's hair.

"S'okay," the other girl murmured. "It feels good."

They fell back into silence as Rachel once again completed a perfect French braid in the Latina's hair. This time when she reached the end, she tied it off with a rubber band. She couldn't tear her eyes away from Santana's image in the mirror. She watched as the other girl's eyes slowly fluttered back open and the two girls made eye contact through their reflections. Rachel smiled softly, and though Santana bit her lip, a tiny smile danced on her lips.

They gazed at each other for several more seconds before Santana sighed and pushed herself off of Rachel. Rachel instantly missed the contact and warmth of Santana's body, and she had to swallow her disappointment at the thought of having to go to class for the rest of the day instead of curling up with Santana on the couch for one of their infamous movie marathons.

However, seeing regret flash across Santana's dark eyes at having to stand up made her feel better. The Latina inspected her hair in the mirror and when she turned to face Rachel, the smile on her face was one hundred percent genuine.

"Not bad. I guess this is the part where I say thank you?"

Rachel smiled and shook her head. "Don't worry about it," she said. She stood up and began to make her way out of the room. "I'm off to class; don't be late for work. See you later?"

Santana nodded. "It's my turn to pick up dinner so don't worry – I'll get you something that didn't involve the murder of fluffy little bunnies."

Rachel laughed. "See that you do," she retorted playfully, and turned to exit the room. Just before she pushed aside the curtain, Santana's voice stopped her.

"Rachel."

Rachel turned back around, her stomach fluttering at the sound of her given name finally falling from Santana's lips.

"Thank you."

Santana didn't specify what she was thanking her for, but Rachel's heart got the message and melted a tiny bit more.

"Always," she replied, giving the other girl one last smile before walking away.

* * *

Three hours later, Santana was incredibly frustrated with work and found herself wishing she was back at the loft with Rachel; a thought which, in turn, only caused her frustration to grow.

She had no idea what was happening between her and the smaller girl. During breakfast, she could've slapped Rachel for how annoying she was being. But the second Rachel had put her legs around Santana and started to braid her hair, Santana found herself more at peace than she had been in a long time. For once, no thoughts of Brittany ran through her head. In fact, no thoughts at all had bothered her for the 15 minutes she sat in Rachel's lap. She had closed her eyes and simply breathed. With every breath, she inhaled the scent of Rachel's perfume and let it wash over her.

Getting up from that position had taken every once of willpower she had in her entire body. And then, dammit, she had decided to call Rachel by her full name and the smile she had gotten in return from the smaller girl had just about wrecked her self-control. It took everything she had not to wrap her arms around Rachel, convince her to skip class, call in sick to work, and spend the rest of the day lounging around the loft in utter contentment.

"Santana."

The sound of David's voice snapped Santana out of her thoughts, and she turned to see her boss standing there, arms crossed.

"I called your name three times," he said. "Get your head out of your ass and pay attention."

"Bite me," she retorted, and an image of Rachel biting down on her lips flashed across her mind. She shook her head violently to get rid of it.

Thankfully David, like so many of her past superiors, had come to realize that Santana came with a lot of attitude and there wasn't anything he could do to change that. He had simply accepted that fact and moved past.

However, Santana was well aware sometimes she pushed his limit and this was one of those times. "Sorry," she muttered. "Long night."

David just sighed. "What am I going to do with you? You absolutely cannot talk to the customers like that, you hear me?"

She nodded and gave him her sweetest smile. "This good?" she asked, pitching her voice an octave higher so that it came out cheerful and perky.

He laughed and shook his head. "Enough with the sass, young lady. Back to work, okay? Table four needs refills."

Santana saluted him and walked off, smiling. David was a thirty-something hunk from Hawaii. His toned muscles, tanned skin, and somewhat shaggy black hair gave him a very typical Pacific-Islander surfer look. He was totally hot and had both female and male customers constantly drooling over him. Despite her awesome gaydar, Santana had yet to figure out if the guy was gay or straight, as he politely turned away admirers of both genders. He wore no wedding ring so she knew he wasn't married, but Santana knew there had to be some reason why he wouldn't accept any offers. She made a mental note to bug the crap out of him about it at a later date.

As soon as she had finished waiting on table four, Santana stepped behind the counter and pulled out her purse. She shuffled through it, feeling around for her lip gloss, when she felt her phone begin to vibrate.

_CALL FROM LADY HUMMEL_

She rolled her eyes and hit the ignore button. Whatever Porcelain needed could wait until after work.

However, seconds later when her screen lit up again with the same call, Santana huffed. "So impatient," she muttered, before picking her head up and waving to David. "Can I take this? They've already called twice," she called out to him. He nodded his consent and she walked outside the restaurant, finally hitting 'answer'.

"This better be good, Lady Hummel."

There was a momentary pause and then Kurt's voice came through the phone.

"Can you get off work early? Like…right now?"

"Seriously?" she asked. "I'm in the middle of work. I get off in a couple hours. I promise as soon as I'm done, I'll pick up dinner and come pretend to listen to whatever pathetic issue you're having with Hair Gel Boy."

"Save the sass, Santana. Are you sure you can't leave now?"

Santana snorted. "I've already promised you food and my listening skills. What more do you want from me? Seriously Kurt, I need to get back to work so your sorry ass is going to have to wait until—"

"It's Rachel," he snapped, interrupting her, and something about the tone of his voice made Santana's blood run cold.

"What about Rachel?" she asked, half of her already dreading the answer.

"Just…it's her story to tell," Kurt said, and then added in a quieter voice, "I think she needs you, Santana."

At those words, Santana knew she had to go. "I'll be there in 15 minutes," she muttered, before hanging up and walking back inside. Her eyes scanned the room for David and located him standing behind the counter holding out her purse.

She made her way over to him, taking the purse with a question in her eyes. He shrugged and cocked his head towards the door. "I saw you through the window," he said. "Something about your expression changed and I knew it was an emergency. Go ahead."

"Seriously?"

He nodded. "Seriously."

Santana grabbed David's hand and squeezed it in gratitude before throwing off her apron and booking it out of the restaurant.

Roughly 20 minutes later, she opened the door to the loft and threw down her purse. Her eyes flashed wildly, searching the open space for Rachel but saw no signs of her.

"Santana, thank god."

She whipped around at the sound of Kurt's voice and was alarmed to see how pale he looked.

"What the fuck happened?" she hissed. "Where's Berry?"

Kurt nodded his head at Rachel's curtained-off room. "She's in there," he said in a quiet voice. "She came home about an hour ago, sobbing too hard for me to understand any of the words she was saying. I dragged her into the living room and got her a glass of water and got her to calm down enough to tell me what happened."

His pause made Santana's stomach flip. "And?" she persisted.

"She got a call from one of her dads during class. The text he sent her before he called said 'emergency' so her professor let her take the call. Santana…Shelby's sick."

Shelby Corcoran was Rachel's birth mother. Rachel had met her for the first time when she found of the Shelby was coaching their rival glee club. They had decided to try being friends, and while they weren't super close, Santana knew how much the woman meant to Rachel. Besides sharing blood with her, the two were nearly identical and even more significantly than that, it was Shelby who had given Rachel her singing voice.

Santana didn't like the way Kurt said sick. "How sick?" she whispered.

His eyes leveled with hers. "_Sick_," he said sadly. "She needs you."

Santana nodded and Kurt squeezed one of her hands before walking to his room and closing the curtains. Santana took several deep breaths, steeled her emotions, and entered Rachel's room.

The sight that her eyes met wrenched her heart. Rachel was curled up on her bed in a tiny ball, wearing an oversized sweatshirt with the Wicked logo on it, no doubt a hand-me-down from Shelby. Santana crawled onto the bed and gently put her arms around Rachel's waist, pulling the smaller girl into her lap. Rachel, with tears pouring down her face, threw her arms around Santana's neck as her body shook with sobs.

"It's okay, baby," Santana murmured, kissing the side of Rachel's head and running her fingers through Rachel's tangled hair. "It's going to be okay."

They sat like that for half an hour, and the feeling of déjà vu was strong in the atmosphere, only this time it was Santana comforting Rachel as she cried. Eventually, Rachel's breathing began to even out and once she had regained control of her emotions, she pulled back and looked at Santana.

"She's going to die," the smaller girl said. "I know we aren't…I mean, she's…I…she's my mom." That was all it took for another set of tears to trickle down Rachel's face. Santana brushed them away with her fingertips and Rachel took a deep, shuddering breath.

"Breathe, Rachel. Just breathe," Santana instructed softly. She took Rachel's hand and placed it against her heart. "Feel my heartbeat? Steady. Constant. Try to get yours to match. Breathe with me."

Together, they took deep breaths, in and out, until some of the color faded back into Rachel's face. Her hand was still on Santana's heart, and she kept it there even after she opened her eyes. Santana gazed at the smaller girl and slowly leaned forward, pressing her lips against Rachel's.

She held the kiss for several long seconds before pulling away. She took Rachel's chin in her hand and looked into her tear-filled chocolate eyes.

"I don't know what this is," she murmured, indicating their confusing affair. "But I do know that you're going to be okay. I promise I'll be here for you through this, and you know that Kurt will be, too."

Rachel bit her lip as a stray tear escaped. "I don't know in what way or how, but I love you," she whispered.

Santana's heart stopped momentarily; the last person to speak those three words to her had been Brittany. She closed her eyes for a heartbeat, letting painful memories flash across her mind. Finally, she opened them and leaned forward, kissing Rachel once more. The kiss was soft and chaste, sweet and innocent. It had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with the closeness between two people not necessarily in love, but who loved each other.

She moved herself and Rachel into a big spoon/little spoon position and pulled the covers over them. She wrapped her arms around Rachel's waist and tangled their legs together. Pressing into the smaller girl's back, she kissed the back of Rachel's head and murmured into her hair.

"I love you, too."

* * *

Two hours later, Kurt decided it was safe to come out of his room. The loft was silent, so he tiptoed across the hardwood floor to Rachel's room. Pushing aside the curtains, he peeked into the room and what he saw brought tears to his eyes.

His two roommates, his two girls, were curled up together in Rachel's bed, fast asleep. Santana's body was pressed into Rachel's from behind with one hand held over Rachel's heart, kept in place by Rachel's hand on top of it. He could see evidence of tears staining both of their faces and sensed their relationship had come to a turning point.

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he snapped a silent picture and saved it to his camera roll. Blowing them a kiss, he backed away quietly and left the two girls to sleep.

* * *

**There you have it! The plot only thickens from this point. I realize some of you may think I'm moving along too quickly and didn't evolve the character enough, but I have a lot of this fic planned out in my head already and I promise everything has relevance. **

**Feedback is always appreciated and loved. Thanks for reading, the wait for chapter 3 shouldn't be too long! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi, everyone! Thank you so much for the follows/favorites and especially the reviews - they're all so nice and keep me motivated to update quickly.**

**I said previously that chapters would vary in length, but this chapter is _really_ short - too short for my liking, but it's 2:30am and I'm too tired to care - and I apologize for that. However, I wanted to get this bit of the story in because one, it's important and two, I leave school for spring break tomorrow and won't be able to write again until I'm home on Saturday.**

**Only thing really to note for this chapter is that Rachel's relationship with Shelby is somewhat AU. **

**Thank you all for reading, I hope everyone is enjoying it so far! **

* * *

Several hours later, Rachel awoke to long legs tangled with her own and an arm wrapped around her stomach. She could feel someone's warm body pressing up against hers from behind.

Everything was a blur. What time was it? What had happened? Who was behind her?

She breathed in heavily and without opening her eyes, she immediately knew that the owner of those legs, that arm, the warm body was Santana. The other girl's scent was one that Rachel had come to know very well over the past few years.

Every single day, without fail, Santana wore a perfume called Inferno. As a sophomore in high school, Rachel had associated that scent with fear. She had no idea what the fragrance was actually supposed to smell like; all she knew was that when she caught a whiff of it, it more often than not meant some form of torture was headed her way.

By senior year, Inferno was a scent that made her stomach flutter and caused a small to dance on her lips. Finally, after three years of constant conflict, she and Santana were friends. Though being around the feisty Latina still made Rachel slightly nervous (hey, old habits die hard, right?), she relished in the fact that Santana finally treated her like a human being and gave her respect. They had graduated together as classmates, teammates, and close friends.

Now, as a freshman about to finish her first year in college, Santana's scent was one that Rachel couldn't get enough of. It was nothing if not intoxicating and simply breathing it in sent visions of tangled bodies and late night sexcapades spiraling through Rachel's mind.

A small sigh stirred Rachel from her thoughts. She carefully shifted her body and settled on her stomach, gazing at the sleeping girl next to her.

It was no question in Rachel's mind that Quinn Fabray would always be the prettiest girl she knew; there was just something about that girl's beauty that was inhuman. However, Santana was a very close second and in that moment, watching her sleep, Rachel didn't know if she had ever seen the other girl look quite so beautiful and at peace. Her long, dark hair was fanned out on the pillow beneath her head and the expression on her face was the epitome of serenity.

A stray strand of hair fell across Santana's face and Rachel brushed it away gently. And suddenly, without warning, Rachel remembered why she and Santana had ended up in bed together and her blood turned to ice.

_Shelby_.

It had been a typical Wednesday afternoon. After the usual morning banter and an unexpected hair-braiding session with Santana, Rachel had left the loft in a fairly good mood. She worked her way through her classes and it wasn't until she was halfway through History of Musical Theater that the smile that had been on her face since waking up finally died on her lips.

**EMERGENCY. CALL NOW.**

The text was from her dad. As soon as Rachel got it, scenarios started to run through her head. Bad scenarios. Heart racing, she stood up and made her way to her professor's desk, where the intimidating woman sat grading papers.

"Professor?"

The woman looked up and leveled her eyes with Rachel's. It was all Rachel could do not to shrink away.

"Yes, Miss Berry."

Rachel swallowed. "Um, I realize cell phone usage is strictly forbidden during class but…um you see…" She handed over the phone to her professor, who took it in and read the text from Rachel's dad.

After a momentary pause, the woman handed the phone back to Rachel. Her expression was unimpressed, though Rachel could see a twinge of concern in her eyes.

"Outside. If possible, make it quick."

Rachel let out the breath she had been holding. "Thank you, Professor."

As soon as she stepped outside of the room, Rachel spotted a bench in the hallway and had taken a seat. With trembling fingers and a stomach full of nervous butterflies, she dialed her father's number.

"Rachel, honey, I'm sorry for interrupting class."

"Dad? What happened? What's wrong? What's the emergency?"

Her dad paused. "Are you alone, honey? It might be best if you are when you hear this."

Rachel's heartbeat quickened. "Hear what, Dad? I'm alone."

"Shelby…your mother…she…"

Her dad trailed off and Rachel's blood ran cold and her lip began to tremble. "She what, Dad? She's not…no. No. Please, she—"

"No! No, no, she's not…but she might…" Rachel heard her dad begin to cry and suddenly, there was commotion on the other line.

"Dammit Hiram, I told you to let me make this call. You've literally managed to butcher everything I told you to say. For god's sake. Okay, Rachel? Are you still there?"

Her daddy had obviously taken the phone from her dad. "Daddy, why is Dad crying about Shelby? What happened?"

She heard her daddy take a deep breath before answering.

"Shelby's sick. I'm so sorry, babygirl."

Rachel froze.

_Shelby's sick_.

"How sick?" she whispered, not even sure she wanted to know the answer.

"She's not going to win this one, babygirl," her daddy said, his words catching in his throat, and with that, Rachel dropped her phone and began to sob.

* * *

"Hey, Hobbit."

Rachel whipped around at the sound of Santana's voice. The Latina was sitting up, blearily rubbing her eyes.

Hobbit. She had called Rachel Hobbit.

She always called Rachel Hobbit. To be honest, it didn't even sound like an insult anymore.

Except for right now.

"Hobbit? Seriously? Did you just call me _Hobbit_?"

Santana stopped rubbing her eyes and looked at Rachel, confused. "Um…yes?"

Rachel saw red, and she shot out of her bed. Her blood was on fire. Fuck that, her entire _body_ was on fire.

"I cannot _believe_ you just called me Hobbit; that you would choose to call me a fucking insulting, bitchy, thoughtless name right now. After what happened today. After finding out about Shelby and god, after I told you I loved you? I can't—"

Rachel froze.

Oh, god. She had told Santana she loved her.

No, now wasn't the time.

"Rachel, I—"

"No! Shut up. The point is, you fucking called me one of your stupid fucking little nicknames at a time when I'm vulnerable. A time when I need love and support, when I _need_ you, not some fucking petty joke. My mother is dying, Santana. Do you know what that feels like? Do you understand what I'm going through?" She was starting to sob and choke on her words. "Do you know what it feels like to have your heart smashed into a million pieces? No, you don't because you haven't fucking had a heart since Brittany didn't choose you. And you know what? _I don't blame her_."

Rachel saw Santana freeze, and her heart wrenched.

Oh. My. God. What had she done?

"Santana, I—Oh my god, I'm so…Santana—"

"Rachel."

Santana cut her off and motioned for her to come back to the bed. Tears pouring down her face, Rachel walked back to the bed and crawled onto it. As soon as she had done so, Santana pulled Rachel into her lap and Rachel buried herself into the other girl's long, dark hair and cried.

She cried and cried and Santana just held her, stroking her hair just as she had done so earlier. As soon as she could speak again, Rachel whispered into Santana's neck.

"I shouldn't have said that about Brittany. I'm so sorry. God, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it, I swear."

She heard Santana take a shaky breath. "I know," the other girl said. "It's okay. You're mad. You're hurting. I'm sorry I called you Hobbit, you're right; it was inconsiderate and insensitive."

At Santana's apology, Rachel only cried more and clung tightly to the Latina's warm body. As she cried, she heard Santana's breath hitch and Rachel realized with a jolt that the other girl was crying, too. Untangling herself from the embrace, Rachel pulled away and looked into Santana's tear-filled dark eyes.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, brushing away the tears from Santana's eyes. "I promise you with everything I have that I didn't mean it."

Santana closed her eyes and Rachel watched a shudder run through her. When she opened her eyes again, Rachel felt the other girl look straight into her soul.

"Love me?" she asked. Rachel breath caught in her throat. She had never seen Santana so vulnerable.

There was really only one way to respond.

"Love you," she confirmed, and brought their lips together. She felt Santana's hands cup her face and she wrapped her arms around the other girl's waist, bringing them closer. Rachel could taste tears through the kiss, and it only made her want to kiss Santana harder. True, Santana had called her Hobbit and though she overreacted, it had stung, especially added to the news of Shelby. But Rachel had taken it too far by bringing up Brittany; the blonde was unspoken, forbidden territory and she knew that. She put an apology into every kiss against Santana's lips and hoped the other girl knew how sorry she was.

When they finally broke apart, Santana sighed and leaned against the mountain of pillows behind them. She patted her stomach and Rachel lied down, settling her head on said stomach. Santana began to run her fingers through Rachel's hair and they sat like that in silence for awhile until Santana finally spoke.

"You wanna talk about it?"

Rachel looked up at her and let out a hollow laugh. "Which part?" she asked sardonically.

"Let's start with Shelby."

Rachel broke eye contact and focused her attention on tracing random patterns on Santana's stomach with her fingers.

"She has stage four breast cancer. She hadn't been feeling well for awhile, but they caught it too late. The doctors estimate three months, four at the most. She's going to die."

Santana remained quiet, and Rachel knew she was giving her time to say everything she needed to.

"I don't know how to feel," Rachel said quietly, her fingers dancing on Santana's smooth skin. "I mean, I didn't even know who this woman was until my sophomore year of high school. She didn't even want a relationship with me at first. But then we decided to try and I was so happy. Even though it was really rocky sometimes and hurt a lot, we worked through a lot of shit and it's been so nice having a mom to talk to when I need her. Even though she's not really my _mom_, she's still someone I can go to. I love her, Santana. I have her looks. God, I have her voice. I'm a part of her, and she's a part of me. And I'm going to lose her."

Rachel choked on the last few words and swallowed hard, refusing to cry again, and Santana finally spoke.

"Baby, it's okay to cry," she murmured and Rachel shook her head, not allowing the tears to fall. "I'm not gonna sugarcoat it; that sucks. That really, really suck and I am so sorry. But like I said earlier, I swear I'm going to be there for you no matter what happens, okay? I promise."

Rachel took a deep, shaky breath and finally looked up into Santana's eyes again. For once, she saw no hint of contempt or spite; not even a teasing glimmer. Nothing but concern and love shined in the dark eyes looking back at her and Rachel felt her heart flutter.

Love. That was another thing she needed to get out into the open.

"So…" Rachel said, biting her lip, "earlier when I said—"

Santana cut her off. "Don't," she said, clearly knowing what Rachel was going to say. "You don't have to say anything or feel like you have to explain or justify yourself. Don't freak yourself out over it, okay? Quinn and I say 'I love you' to each other all the time. Well no okay, not all the time, because that girl is a bitch." Rachel cracked a smile and Santana grinned, continuing, "You _know_ what I mean. She's my best friend and I love her. It doesn't mean I'm in love with her. It's the same for you and me, okay? You love me. I love you. It doesn't have to mean we're in love."

The words came spilling from Rachel's lips before she could stop them. "And what if I am a little bit in love with you?" she whispered, and saw Santana's eyes widen.

But before the other girl could answer her, Kurt's head popped into her room, a question in his eyes.

"Hey, ladies," he said, sadness shining in his eyes but a bright smile on his face. "Hope I'm not interrupting but I just made a bunch of popcorn and I'm so in the mood for a movie right now. What do you say?"

He was so desperately trying to be perky and upbeat that Rachel couldn't let him down. She glanced at Santana, who was still gazing at her, and quickly turned back to Kurt, forcing a smile and nodding.

"You had me at popcorn," she said. Kurt clapped his hands together and spun around, calling out to the girls to sit on the couch and he'd be out with the popcorn in just a minute.

Rachel held out her hand to Santana. "Coming?" she asked. When Santana just stared at her, Rachel dropped her voice to a whisper. "We can finish this later, okay? Promise," she pleaded. She _so_ did not want to talk about how she had accidentally pretty much just told Santana she was in love with her.

Her words seemed to snap Santana out of her trance, and the other girl stood.

"I'm sorry about before," she said, and Rachel shrugged, offering her a weak smile. "And yes, later sounds good."

Santana leaned down and pressed a quick, light kiss to Rachel's lips before walking out of the room and yelling for Kurt to _hurry his sassy ass up before she went all Lima Heights on him_, leaving Rachel in a daze. She stood there motionless, a million thoughts flying through her head, mostly centered on Shelby and Santana.

Slowly, she made her way to the living room, where Kurt and Santana sat, already arguing over which movie to watch. She looked at the clock.

8:30 pm. She sighed.

It had been a long day, and it wasn't about to get any shorter.

* * *

**See? Very short. Oh well, I promise this next one will be much longer. **

**Did you catch the tiny bit of Faberry I snuck in at the beginning? I love Pezberry, but I lost my heart to Faberry a long time ago #oops **

**Feedback is always appreciated. Thank you for reading! **


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